Sunday, September 12, 2010

THE PILGRIM CHAUCER

Among us on our pilgrimage was oneWho, long before our traveling was done,Had come to know us each as if he wereOur dearest friend, so busy would he stirAmong our company, observing us,Engaging us in talk, intent to sussOur secrets out and know our very hearts,Though we be knaves or nobles, nuns or tarts.

And yet himself we hardly came to know,So curious he was for us to showOur crotchets and peculiaritiesThat he laid low with no apologiesOr shame and seemed intent to memorizeWhat he observed—a poet in disguise.